BECOMING A CAT

Have you ever imagined what it would be like to transform into a cat?

Cats are optimistic, curious, cute creatures that sleep on average sixteen hours a day. Look at their agile movements as they launch themselves up onto high ledges; the effortlessly elegant way they jump from rooftop to rooftop; their amazing balance which allows them to fall from a tree and plant a soft landing by making split-second adjustments in their center of mass. Just look at those bottomless eyes of infinite mystery.

Cats are truly marvelous creatures. While their friends the jaguar and cheetah are struggling to survive in the slowly dwindling savanna and tropical forests, domestic cats have adapted to the city in impressive ways. They understand the streetlight system and even know to avoid dangerous hightension wires and electric fences. Cats know what day the compost is taken out in the city, and they know the color of compost bins. And because cats have such an eclectic palette, they can eat almost anything, from scraps of ham and canned mackerel to moldy bread and over-boiled anchovies. This junk food, so to speak, doesn’t really suit the preferences of elegant and noble cats, but they can’t be picky or complain. They silently accept the terms this world has given them.

Even though cats eat all sorts of urban trash, they still have the pride of a wild animal. They exist on a different plane from dogs, who receive food and shelter in exchange for cute wagging tails and warm hugs from their master. In fact, cats are subservient to anyone, regardless of if they’re strays or house cats. That is to say, cats have no masters. They only recognize friends and subordinates. You might think you’re raising your cat as its master, but your cat doesn’t think that. To your cat, you’re probably closer to a maid or butler, maybe a friend at best. If you don’t do your duties as a maid, you’ll hear a warning from your cat in the form of a stern meow. Meow! It means “My bowl is empty.”

Once cats have had their bellies filled, they freely roam about their jungle of parks, rooftops, telephone poles, and empty buildings. They jump, they run, they charge, they hide. They may be staying in the city, but they’ve never lost their jungle muscles. They’re both wild and urban! Having the body of a cat – that is a truly marvelous feat.

Paulus Willems once said, “There’s only one way for a human to be happy in this city. And that’s by turning into a cat.”

You’re probably thinking to yourself, “Is life that much of a joke to you? Do you have that much time on your hands that you can daydream about turning into a cat?” I agree wholeheartedly. Life is not a joke. No matter how charming cats may be, people should never turn into cats. Why, you ask? Because life is not a joke, of course.

And despite this, I still met up with that tiresome lump of a man named Hwang Bong-gon. You remember, the guy who calls me every morning saying he wants to be a cat. But I had a good reason for meeting him. Not long ago, Mr Hwang attempted suicide. They found him (I don’t know how or where) having consumed a whole bottle of sleeping pills. What was more impressive than his survival was the fact that he was able to push so many pills down his throat. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for someone to discover him. He was quickly taken to the hospital and had the contents of his stomach pumped. I guess someone was looking out for him after all.

When I arrived at the restaurant, he was already on his fifth bottle of soju.

“I’m in love,” he said as he looked at me with bloodshot eyes. “I said I’m in love! Do you even know what that means? What’s the point of life if you can’t be who your love wants you to be? It hurts so bad thinking about how I’m going to live my whole life in a form she cannot love.”

Mr Hwang buried his face in his hands and began to sob. Hwang Bong-gon. He’s a large man at 6’3” and 290 lbs. It was hard to believe this large man sitting in front of me could go on whining about love. All the people in the restaurant were staring at me. It was mortifying.

“You’re making a lot of noise just for love. But really, turning into a cat for love – come on, man.”

“She’s a cat-lover.”

“A lot of people love cats. They’re pretty cute.”

“She’s not interested in me at all. I’m just a waste of space to her.”

“Everyone has their type. So what if you’re not hers?”

“Just look at me. Even I hate myself. There’s not an inch of my body worthy of being loved.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself. You can be a little annoying at times, sure, but there’s lots of girls out there with unique taste in men. Even some who like hefty guys. All you have to do is look.”

“There’s no one like her.”

“If it were a matter of effort, maybe you could do something about it. But that’s not how love works. Turning into a cat’s the same business – probably more so. Maybe it’s time you call it quits?”

“I can’t love anyone but her.”

“You might think that now, but it’ll pass with time.”

“No, I’ve loved her for seventeen years now. It only gets more intense with time. I was destined to love her.”

I was getting tired of this game of verbal tennis. It felt like I was wandering through a maze with no exit. I felt bad thinking that he could have actually died, but I wasn’t cut out for this kind of conversation.

“If you insist that she’s the one, why not just lose some weight? Lose some weight and I bet you’ll look like a new man. You’re tall; you’d probably look dashing. Don’t worry about looking like a balloon head; I heard you burn the fat in your face first. Go to the gym and jog a little… Yeah, they say cardio is the best for burning fat.”

“You just don’t get it, do you? As long as I’m a human, she’ll never love me. She can’t feel that kind of emotion toward other humans. Pity, empathy, love, even hatred – she doesn’t feel any of them. She has no interest in humans. She once told me, ‘I have no interest in people, just like you have no interest in pine trees or grass. I’ve tried a million times to love another person. But I just can’t do it. I don’t feel anything.’”

“What, does she have a disorder or something?”

“I’m not sure. The doctors say the part of her brain that controls emotions is broken. But what do they know! It’s not like she can’t feel any emotion. She loves cats. Cats make her feel happy and sad, too.”

Mr Hwang took another sip of his drink, and I took a sip of mine, as I sat next to this stubborn, dense man who loved, and had loved for seventeen years, a woman who could feel no emotions toward humans. I didn’t know what to tell him.

There are some people who can’t feel love or fear because of a problem with the part of the brain that governs emotion.

These individuals – whose brains could have been damaged by anything from car accidents or disease to radiation poisoning or genetic disorders – can think perfectly logically and rationally; their only problem is when it comes to emotions. According to a recent article published in Psychological Science, such individuals tend to be better at finance, investing, and gambling. Because they can’t feel the fear, they can make calm and rational investments or bets carrying risks that would scare away most people. The article also reported that there are a significant number of famous Wall Street investors who cannot feel such emotions.

Kim Yuri, the woman Mr Hwang loves, suffers from a similar disorder. But unlike others, she can still experience emotions – when it comes to cats, that is. Doctors don’t have a good explanation for this. Kim Yuri’s condition wasn’t brought about by some traumatic accident. The disposition has developed slowly since she was a young girl.

“I grew up in an orphanage,” Mr Hwang explained to me. “She was the headmaster’s daughter. The headmaster was a remarkable man. He treated all the children like his own. Because of this, his daughter had to wear the same clothes and eat the same food as us. She even slept in the same quarters. Ironically, it was his own child who had to grow up like an orphan. But she was a sweet girl. She never abused the fact she was the headmaster’s daughter and she never complained or asked for special treatment. She never acted jealous or envious of anyone else. In fact, she liked sharing her crayons and dolls with the orphans. She would always sit on top of the Zelkova branches and look down at the other children. I’ve loved her for seventeen years. I’ve always looked after her, and even now I stay by her side. When the headmaster passed away, his dying wish to me was to please look after his daughter. So, I’ve always stuck around her. And on the rare occasion she calls me first, I go running. She has a lot of cats, so it’s hard for her to manage them all on her own. She appreciates my help. But it’s purely platonic. She’s tried to feel something for me. We even tried sex once. But it just didn’t work. It was like if a human tried to have sex with a hippo. She simply couldn’t do it with me.”

According to what Mr Hwang tells me, Miss Kim showers her cats with love. In fact, she already has forty-nine of them. And raising forty-nine cats in a small place would take a lot of love because cats are very territorial animals. What’s more, she owns almost every breed of cat there is, regardless of taste. Indeed, she doesn’t care about breeds. Whether it’s an expensive cat, a mixed breed, pretty or ugly, it’s all the same to her.

“She takes care of all forty-nine cats by herself. She even puts out food in each alleyway for the strays. With this in mind, the real number of cats she looks after is much larger. Naturally, when she sees a cat that’s been hit by a car with its leg broken or its intestines on the street, she can’t just pass it by. Once she saw a cat that had been hit by a motorcycle, crawling around on the ground with its intestines trailing it; she almost lost her mind. She cried out about how evil and cruel humans could be. I had never seen her once cry while at the orphanage. That was the first time I had ever seen her cry. She wasn’t the kind of girl who cried or smiled ever. But that day, she held that bloody cat in her arms as she ran to the vet hospital. The cat eventually died. Yuri didn’t eat for three days. She has spent almost all her earnings on cats – buying cat food, cat litter, cat shampoo, cat toys. She’s hand-built towers for her cats to play in. She nurses injured cats back to health and looks after stray cats. She sincerely feels empathy and love for cats. But she has no interest in humans. One day she asked me what love is. Here I am with my chest about to explode from love, and I couldn’t tell her a thing about love. She once told me, ‘If only you were a cat, I think we would be able to do that thing called love.’ I can’t forget those words. I want to teach her what love is. I want to teach her how tender love can be; it’s warm; how noble the act of sharing love is. I want to show her that love is the only beautiful thing we humans are capable of.”

Tears started to fall from Mr Hwang’s now sober eyes. He wiped his tears with the back of his hand and took another shot of soju. Not knowing what to say, I also took another shot. The alcohol tasted like bitter medicine.

All afternoon I drank as I listened to him talk about love. And, to be honest, I was moved by the innocence of a man wanting to change his entire being for the woman he loved. What’s the point of life in this godforsaken city if you can’t change everything about yourself for the one you love? We drank a lot that day. We were both drunk. Mr Hwang cried, and so did I. Finally, I made up my mind.

“All right. Let’s turn this bastard into a cat!”

I learned that humans are a mirror of the world. After getting to know Mr Hwang, I started to doubt the symbols of the world I knew. The world I saw reflected in Mr Hwang’s eyes had completely overturned my own world. Something was wrong. I didn’t know if it was Mr Hwang or me or Miss Kim or this world, all I knew was something was wrong. And if something was wrong, what we needed was change.

I know, I can hear you saying, “But really? A cat?” You shouldn’t be so quick to judge. I said it before. Sarcasm is no help and will never save us from the unhappiness of our lives. So, if you don’t know a spell, or potion, or some special way of turning into a cat, please just be quiet. The only thing we need right now is the magic to turn Mr Hwang into a cat.